<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Five times Albert and Race were friends and one time they were more than that by Stellacarlberg</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23246563">Five times Albert and Race were friends and one time they were more than that</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellacarlberg/pseuds/Stellacarlberg'>Stellacarlberg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Absent Parents, Alcohol, Childhood Friends, College, Dick Jokes, F/M, Growing Up, High School, M/M, Making Out, Smoking, Weed, first heart-break, rating because of swearing and implications of sexual content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:34:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23246563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellacarlberg/pseuds/Stellacarlberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Albert DaSilva and Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins have been friends since they were both kids. But childhood is one thing, and growing up is another. </p><p>Six snapshots of Albert and Race's lives, from the ages 8 to 20.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albert DaSilva/Original male character, Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Racetrack Higgins/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Five times Albert and Race were friends and one time they were more than that</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sooooo this is my first ever Ralbert-fic</p><p>here we go</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1. </p><p>The first day of school can be scary for a lot of people. Albert DaSilva isn’t one of those people. He walks right into the classroom for the third graders and looks around with all the coolness an eight year-old can muster. It is crowded, but he doesn’t let that phase him. He has the same backpack as a boy across the room. The boy is short and has light blond hair, almost stark white after a whole summer spent in the sun. He also has freckles, just like Albert does. He is also wearing a t-shirt that has a dinosaur on it, which Albert thinks is pretty cool. So he decides quickly to walk up to him. </p><p>The boy glances up when he notices someone standing in front of him. He squints, as if he’s unsure why Albert is there. “Hi,” he says at last. </p><p>“Hey,” Albert says. “I’m Albert.”</p><p>The boy glances Albert up and down. “That is an old-person name.”</p><p>If it was somebody else, Albert would maybe have shoved him, or yelled at him. But there is something kind and non-threatening in the boy’s face that stops him. And his t-shirt <i>is</i> really awesome. “My grandpa was named Albert,” he admits. “What’s your name?”</p><p>The boy makes a face. “Anthony,” he says, like he’s very unhappy by this fact. </p><p>Albert shakes his head. “Nah, you need a nickname.”</p><p>“A nickname?”</p><p>“Yeah!” He takes Anthony’s hand and drags him up from his seat. Albert is taller than him, but only by a little. “Like, uh…” he trails off and stares at Anthony intently, trying to come up with something. “Say something you’re good at.”</p><p>Anthony thinks for a moment. Then his face splits into a grin. “Running!”</p><p>Albert copies his smile. “I bet I’m faster than you.”</p><p>The grin on Anthony’s face grows even bigger, showing off a wide toothgap. “Wanna bet a dollar on it?”</p><p>Albert thinks about it for a moment. He has a dollar in his jacket. His mom put it there this morning and told Albert to buy himself a snack on his way home from school, since they don’t have anything at home. That dollar could go to a chocolate bar, or some chips. </p><p>...Or he could win another dollar and buy both chocolate <i>and</i> chips on his way home from school. </p><p>“Okay,” he says and holds out his hand for Anthony to shake. He has seen grown-ups do it on television before, so he knows what he’s doing. </p><p>When recess starts a couple of hours later, Albert and Anthony rush out to the playground outside of school. They spend the whole thirty minutes running back and forth between the school building and the trashcan signaling the end of the school grounds. When they are called back inside they are both sweaty, muddy, and panting. They are also laughing, even when Albert hands over his dollar to Anthony, who takes it with a satisfied look on his face. The teachers sigh over their dirty clothes and sends them to the bathroom to wash up before lunch. As they are leathering up their hands with soap and watching the brown streaks of dirt disappear down the drain they continue to talk and laugh. </p><p>It is on the way back to the classroom Albert stops suddenly and points to Anthony. “I know!” he exclaims, making the other boy look at him with a confused expression. </p><p>“Know what?”</p><p>“Your nickname!” Albert explains, and it makes Anthony suddenly perk up and be more alert. “Racetrack!”</p><p>Anthony scrunches up his face. “Racetrack? I thought nicknames were supposed to be short.”</p><p>Albert shakes his head. “Nah, not all nicknames.” When Anthony still looks unsure he shrugs. “Okay, let’s go with Race, then. Short for Racetrack.”</p><p>Anthony thinks about this for a moment, then nods slowly. “Race,” he says, tasting the name on his tongue. Then he smiles. “I like it. It sounds cool.”</p><p>When Albert sits down to eat dinner that evening, his mom asks him how his first day has been. “Did you meet anyone nice?” she asks and piles up mac and cheese on his plate. </p><p>“Yeah!” he answers, bouncing slightly in his chair. “I made a friend, his name is Race.”</p><p>His mom raises her eyebrows. “Race? That’s an unusual name.” </p><p>Albert only smiles. </p><p> </p><p> 2. </p><p>Sleepovers become their thing. Almost every weekend they buy all the unhealthy foods and snacks they can carry and throw themselves onto a couch at one of their houses. They usually switch at whose house they are staying at, because Albert’s mom is very nice but works a lot and has to have peace and quiet at night, so they can’t stay there too often. Albert always says it’s just as well, because Race has all the good video games and a much bigger TV. On the other hand, Race shares a room with his younger sister and his home is almost always occupied with his family, so it’s much harder to get some privacy than at Albert’s. Race’s older sisters, Juliana and Nina, have just passed into the older stages of teenhood and are getting more and more annoying every day. </p><p>“Yesterday Julie wouldn’t let me watch the TV all night because she wanted to watch her stupid show.” Race rolls his eyes and throws a packet of doritos to Albert, who catches it with one hand. “Man, you are so lucky you’re an only child.” Albert doesn’t answer, only continues looking through the DVD’s with a somewhat grumpy expression. Race waits for an answer for a moment. When nothing happens he sits down on the sofa. “Al?”</p><p>Albert spins around on the floor, facing Race. “Yeah?” he asks. His hair is kind of long now, it’s well past his ears and still growing. He has refused to let his mom cut it for months. </p><p>“What’s up?” Race asks. Albert throws himself back against the floor, staring up into the ceiling. After a moment of silence Race joins him. His friend is picking at a small scab on his elbow he got the other day. Race glances at him again. He looks deep in thought. “Al?”</p><p>Albert hums and the sighs. There is a long moments of silence, in which Race can’t help but get a weird feeling in his stomach. They are never quiet with each other. There has been numerous occasions when Race’s parents have to remind them to be quieter because “-almost two am, boys, and Maria has her soccer game tomorrow.” Between the two of them, they have been silenced by teachers more times than Race can bring himself to count. Albert being quiet is not a good sign. “Uh,” he starts, not completely sure what to say. “Is… Is something up, or what?”</p><p>“Martin called me.”</p><p>Race stares. “Your dad?”</p><p>Albert makes a face. “No, one of the other Martins I know.” He shoves Race. “Yeah, my dad.”</p><p>“Oh.” Race doesn’t know what to say. Albert hasn’t had a good relationship with his father for years, he left Albert and his mother when Albert still was very young. The contact he has had with his son has been awkward, irregular and, frankly, too late. “What did he say?”</p><p>Albert doesn’t answer for a moment, as if he doesn’t know how to explain. Race pokes his side and he makes a disgruntled noise. “I don’t know, he wanted to see how school was going-”</p><p>“What, since he has been so involved before?” Race can’t help the slight snarl. Albert shrugs. “Did he even know what year you’re in?” The silence that stretches out is answer enough, and Race scoffs. “He can’t even remember that his son is starting high school in a few months.”</p><p>Albert turns to Race with a huff of indignance. “He’s my <i>dad</i>.”</p><p>“He’s not your <i>family</i>,” Race fires back. </p><p>“What would you know about my family?” comes the sharp reply, landing like a slap against Race’s face. </p><p>He sits up. “I’ve known you for years, Al. I know you. I’m your friend.”</p><p>Albert doesn’t answer. He is wringing his hands in his lap. When he glances up and meets Race’s eyes, his gaze isn’t as fiery as it had been a minute ago. He opens his mouth to say something, closes it, and opens it again. “I’m…” He shakes his head. “I thought he would remember.”</p><p>Albert doesn’t need to say anything else, and Race doesn’t really need to answer him. A lump is forming in his throat. It’s annoying. He wishes it would go away, and they could both go back to picking a movie or playing a video game. He sighs and drags himself to the sofa. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he sits down. </p><p>Albert looks up. “We’re still friends, right?”</p><p>The question makes Race stop for a second. Albert is taller than him, but right now he looks so small where he’s sitting on the ground. Race snorts, and claps Albert on the shoulder like he has seen his dad do to his uncle when they talk about their childhood. “Of course, dude. Come on, I wanna watch Lord of the Rings.”</p><p> </p><p>3. </p><p>The cafeteria is always busy, and it makes Albert itch all over. He slides into his seat and pulls out is lunch - a sandwich he made himself, because his mom had still been sleeping after her night-shift when he left for school that morning. The table is, as usual, crowded.. Romeo and Crutchie are swapping their lunches with each other, and Elmer is reading a book for english and nodding to Jack, who is rambling on about something. Mush is sitting beside them, complaining to Davey about the presentation he’s supposed to do this afternoon that he has not prepared for. Davey doesn’t look too sympathetic. </p><p>There’s only one person who is missing. </p><p>“Have you seen Race today?”</p><p>The people around the table look around, as if they just now noticed that their friend isn’t there. Albert raises an eyebrow. “Romeo, you’re in his history-class, right?”</p><p>Romeo, who has been talking to Crutchie about the school production of Grease, looks up. “Oh,” he says and blinks, as if taken aback by this question. “Yeah, but, he wasn’t actually there today.”</p><p>Albert frowns. Race skipping isn’t all that unusual, but usually he would have texted Albert first, if anything to bring him along. </p><p>“Don’t worry,” Jack says and pours half a bottle of ketchup on his fries. “He’s probably skipping to make out with Lisa.”</p><p>Crutchie and Elmer make similar gagging sounds, but it’s unclear whether it’s because of the image of Race making out, or because of Jack’s lunch. </p><p>Albert tried to laugh along with the rest of them as Jack aimed a fry at Crutchie but missed and hits Davey in the face instead, but an unsettling feeling is spreading in his stomach. </p><p>As soon as he finishes his lunch, he grabs his backpack and says a quick goodbye to his friends before leaving the cafeteria with long strides. As he walks through the mostly deserted hallway he takes out his phone and called Race. It goes to voicemail. He calls again, and the same thing happens. He passes classrooms, some filled with people having lessons and some empty for lunch, and mentally goes through the different possible places where Race can be. </p><p>Ten minutes later he finds him. The small area just outside the school kitchen is mostly used for deliveries and for storing trash, which means it’s the perfect place to smoke during breaks. Race is sitting on the ground next to a garbage can, eyes closed and head leaned back against the brick wall, a cigarette between his fingers. The air does out of Albert when he sees his best friend, and without saying anything he sits down beside him. </p><p>“I thought you were dead,” he says. It isn’t really true, but the hyperbole feels fitting. He gently takes the cigarette from Race’s unresisting hand and takes a drag. It has almost burned down to the filter already, so he flicks it away. For a moment it glows against the grey asphalt before going out and blending in with all the other trash on the group around them. </p><p>“Why did you skip history?” </p><p>“Mind your own business.”</p><p>Albert doesn’t answer but simply shoves Race, perhaps a little too hard. When Race doesn’t react, Albert clicks his tongue. </p><p>“I’m your best friend, Race, I notice when something’s wrong.” Race doesn’t say anything to this, and Albert sighs in slight exasperation. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please?</p><p>He glances down at his phone, and inwardly groans when he realizes he will be late for his next class. He will probably get detention again. </p><p>He looks up to remind Race of the time, but the words stops in his throat. </p><p>Race is crying. </p><p>It isn’t that they don’t cry in front of each other. Because they do. Crying from laughing too hard, or quickly wiping away tears when watching a particularly sad movie. Albert had cried to Race when his dad had skipped on his birthday party for the third time in a row. Race had cried when Juliana went away to college (even though he would not admit to it anyone, not even Albert who had been there).</p><p>But this is different. It’s silent tears streaking down Race’s face without stopping, and him pursing his lips closed to hard that it must be difficult to breathe, just so that he can keep himself from making a sound. </p><p>Albert doesn’t know how to react for a second, but his body moves without him telling it to, wrapping an arm around the shoulder of his friend. </p><p>Race closes his eyes, forcing them shut in a way that makes it look painful. His voice is thin when he mumbles: “She broke up with me.”</p><p>Albert sighs deeply and pulls Race closer to him. He doesn’t tell him it’s going to be okay, or that she’s a bitch, because it won’t help. He doesn’t say anything at all, because there’s not a lot that can be said without making everything worse. With a small hiccuping sound Race buries his face deep into Albert shoulder. They stay like that for a long while, not even moving when he distant bell rings to signal their next class starting. </p><p> </p><p>4. </p><p>The evening is clear and warm. It is one of those summer nights that drag on for forever, no real beginning and no real end until it suddenly has become morning without anyone understanding how it happened. The air is pleasantly cool after a day of blazing sun. If they listen carefully they can hear the faint sound of leaves ruffling in the breeze and the chirping of a bird who hasn’t understood that it’s time to sleep. They are sitting on the roof, because it’s the only place they can be alone in Race’s house. Both of his older sisters are home from college for the summer, and even though Race loves them to death he feels suffocated by how cramped the house has suddenly gotten. And it also means that Juliana and Nina have taken over their old room, which forced Maria to move back into Race’s room. Not without any complaints, of course, from both parts of the youngest pair of siblings in the Higgins family.</p><p>Sharing a room with Maria again makes Race have to be careful about certain things he would otherwise get away with easily. Which brings us back to why he and Albert are sitting on the roof.</p><p>Race takes a long drag of the joint before handing it back to Albert. He takes it without a comment. The last ten minutes have been spent like this, quietly sharing weed and company, no conversation really needed.</p><p>Albert inspects the joint in his hand and glances around the roof, where cigarette stumps are strew around them. ”I hope they don’t bother cleaning here anytime soon,” he says. The smell of both grass and cigarette smoke is prominent and probably won’t go away for awhile. Race crooks a smile at him. His eyes are half closed, the smile lazily spread across his face, making him look completely at ease despite the very uncomfortable seating. He is already high. For as long as they have smoked together, Race has always gotten high faster than Albert.</p><p>Albert brings the joint to his lips and takes a drag. The smoke makes his eyes water slightly, but he ignores it and holds it in as long as he can. When he finally exhales the smoke contrasts weirdly against the light from the streetlamps before it disappears as it mingles into the air. With a sigh he puts the joint out and lies down on his back. He can feel rather than see Race lie down beside him.</p><p>“It feels like a dream already,” Race mutters. </p><p>“What does?”</p><p>“High school.”</p><p>Albert snorts. “Dude. We graduated, like, twelve hours ago.”</p><p>Race nods slowly, like he’s deep in thought. “Yes, we did. Fucking crazy. It feels like a dream.”</p><p>“You said that, already.”</p><p>“Oh.” Race giggles, which makes Albert giggle as well, and soon they are both laying on the roof of Race’s house, giggling like five-year-olds. </p><p>They don’t say anything else when the laughter die down. Someone, probably Juliana, puts on music from inside the house, and the sound travels through the walls, but it sounds like it’s underwater. Like there’s a blockage hindering them both from hearing the words or the notes properly. It somehow reminds Albert of the imaginary games they used to play as children, in which they were together in a secret world where no one could find them; not parents, not teachers, not siblings. Just the two of them, walking through the wood completely alone but alone together. </p><p>Race stares at the sky. Albert is quiet, because he can tell Race is building up to say something, and maybe it’s the weed or the the sentimental feeling of the fact that they just graduated high school, but suddenly Albert is very keen on knowing exactly what Race is thinking about. </p><p>It takes another minute, but Albert doesn’t mind waiting. His therapist would be fucking impressed by how patient he’s being, in a way that is so difficult for him. Again, maybe it’s the weed. Or maybe it’s just the presence of Race beside him. Either way he’s quiet until Race opens is mouth. </p><p>“Do you think college will make everything different?”</p><p>It’s not what Albert expected, but at the same time he’s not surprised. Race has been slowly growing more and more anxious at the thought of college during the last few months. Albert believes it’s because of the nearing sense of adulthood, coupled with a fear of growing apart from his friends. Race has never been great with change, and definitely not sudden change.<br/>
He turns his head to watch his friend. His eyes are slightly red, but otherwise he looks surprisingly sober. </p><p>“Sure,” Albert says, because he doesn’t lie to Race. “But it’ll be fine. I mean, we’re going to the same college. Just five minutes from each other’s dorms.”</p><p>“So we will be okay? We won’t…? “ The question is left hanging, as if completing the sentence would somehow make the answer come out unfavourable for the two of them. Race is still looking at Albert, and Albert can feel his skin prickle under the stare. But it’s not uncomfortable, or weird. It never has been, with Race. There is not one person on this goddamn planet who Albert can be more comfortable with. </p><p>“No, we won’t,” Albert whispers even though he can’t know for sure. “We’re friends, right? Best friends.”</p><p>Race doesn’t react for a moment. The two boys lie beside each other, looking without speaking. A breeze runs through the night, ruffling their hair. Albert can’t think properly, all he knows is that his mouth is dry and his stomach churns. It must be the weed. He is probably hungry. </p><p>Race’s gaze is holding onto him as if it’s clinging to a lifeline. </p><p>He opens his mouth, and Albert makes sure he is paying attention, because he feels like it’s important that he listens properly. </p><p>But before Race can get any words out the window to the bedroom opens. The two boys break eye contact and glances back, to find Nina gazing down at them. “Jesus Christ, it stinks,” she complains. “Go take a shower and change clothes, or your whole room will smell and mom and dad will find out. Come on, they told me too get you. Time to come inside.”</p><p>Race rolls his eyes. “I graduated high school, can’t you just let me be an adult for once?”</p><p>“Nah.” Nina climbs back into the room. “I give it five minutes before mom comes to get you herself.” She glances around the roof at the old joints and cigarettebutts. “But, whatever. It’s your choice.”</p><p> </p><p>When she closes the window, Albert glances back at Race. He is half expecting him to say whatever he was gonna say before being interrupted, but Race’s mouth is stubbornly closed and he’s getting up. The moment it lost, and Albert mourns it silently. </p><p>“Sorry,” Race mutters and offers his hand to help Albert up as well. “She’s probably right.”</p><p>Albert nods numbly and accepts the hand, ignoring the way his fingers seem to burn as they touch. “Sure. It’s getting cold, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>5. </p><p>The party is lame and predictable. The rooms are filled with students, the bass from the music is making the floor shake, and there’s a prominent smell of weed in the air that Race is sure will get stuck in his hair, even after showering. All in all, it could have been the backdrop for any college-movie produced in the last thirty years. </p><p>There’s some people dancing, but not many. Mostly people are standing around in groups and talking or laughing. Jack and Davey are deep in a discussion that makes Davey flap his hands wildly as he speaks. Race passes Romeo who is smoking by the window. He gives him a pat on the back and is offered a hit on the joint. As Race accepts - hey, it’s college, right? - Romeo gossips about everyone at the party. </p><p>“-who didn’t even go out with us last week, can you believe it?”</p><p>Race nods without really listening. “Yeah, man, it’s crazy.”</p><p>“Right,” Romeo continues and waves his hand around, dangerously close to setting the curtains on fire with the joint. “Anyway, if I see him tonight I’m leaving, straight up jumping out of the window. You talked to Albert yet?”</p><p>This catches Race off guard. “Albert?”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s here. Arrived an hour or so ago. I thought he would have told you.”</p><p>“He must have been too busy to mention it,” Race says with a shrug. “You’ve seen him?”</p><p>“I mean, he might have left already,” Romeo says with a smirk. “You know Al, he’s worse than me sometimes. Hope he’s safe with them all, or he’ll have bigger problems than midterms to worry about.”</p><p>Race snorts. “He’s not an idiot, it’s not like he’ll get some girl pregnant.”</p><p>Romeo raises an eyebrow. “No, I’m sure he won’t.” There’s something meaningful in his glance, but the music is too loud and Race is too tired to try to figure out what he’s trying to say.</p><p>“I’m gonna grab something to drink, I’ll see you later, yeah?”</p><p>The fact that Albert hasn’t told him he was also going to this party was probably just a mistake on his part. It wouldn’t be the first time, it’s not like they are attached at the hip. Not anymore, at least, because if college is good for anything it’s making sure new friends seem exciting and old friends become anciently boring. For Albert, at least. That’s how it seems. </p><p>Mush - who’s in town for the weekend - is playing beer-pong with Specs and losing miserably. Race moves into the kitchen, which is badly lit and smelling of something unmistakingly like vomit. He quickly grabs a can of beer and then moves on, walking back into the living room.</p><p>He has never met the people who live here, the only thing he knows about them is that it’s two brothers and their friend, and they “throw the best parties ever”, according to a kid in Race’s algebra-class. After almost two years at college, he should know better than to believe hyperboles like that. </p><p>Not that Race doesn’t like to party. No, usually he loves it. But usually, he is surrounded by his friends, but tonight no one seems to notice him being there. Or at least, not anyone he cares about. Except this girl who is staring unabashed at him while slowly sipping from a plastic cup. Her eyes are big and doe-like, staring at him and blinking slowly, and a smile creeps over her face as she catches his gaze. The party suddenly becomes slightly less depressing, because even if he’d rather hang out with Albert for the evening, getting drunk and hooking up is the next best option. </p><p>It takes little to no time for the two of them to introduce themselves to each other - her name is Allie, and it’s almost like the fates are laughing at him, because really? - and head up the staircase. Her hand is small and warm in his, and her smile is kind as she looks back at him. She’s leading the way, he’s letting her. When they arrive to the second floor, she drags her hand over his chest and then brings their mouths together. She’s a good kisser. Race puts a hand on her waist, and she tugs him backwards until they are pushed against a door, her head dangerously close to a framed picture on the wall beside her.</p><p>“Think we can borrow one of these bedrooms?” she asks, her breath over Race’s mouth, and he nods without overthinking anything. With another smile, she reaches behind herself and pushes the door handle.</p><p>The room is in semi-darkness, which is why they both manage to get inside before noticing it’s already occupied. Race freezes. </p><p>Albert looks like he’s just run a marathon; breathless, flushed cheeks, hair messy. He’s not wearing a snapback, nor a shirt, and the guy on top of him isn’t in much of a better state. </p><p>There’s a long, drawn-out moment where the four of them are staring at each other. Then Allie giggles. “Oops, I’m sorry.” She backs out of the room, and Race is faintly wondering why she is holding his hand, and why he is being escorted out of this room when Albert is in there. Why isn’t Race there, as well? Wasn’t it always supposed to be like that, Albert and Race together? Isn’t that what they said?</p><p>As Allie reaches forward to close the door again, Race can make out voices coming from the room. A deep, unfamiliar voice who sounds exasperated, and then Albert’s: “-don’t worry, it’s Race, he’s cool. He’s my friend.”</p><p>He doesn’t know what excuse he tells Allie, or what words she calls him. He doesn’t know if he says goodbye to any of his other friends, or even how he gets home. He only manages to keep one thought in his head, and it’s of Albert’s clear eyes staring at him in the darkened room, as another guy has been pinned shirtless to the bed. </p><p>Race gets home, falls into bed and turns off his phone before laying awake for hours, staring into the ceiling. </p><p> </p><p>+1 </p><p>Friends will tease each other for anything and everything. This is a fact of life that will always be true. Albert is certain that no matter how far evolution has come, people will always be dicks to the people they love. </p><p>There are some jokes that stick like glue. This may differ from group to group, of course. When it comes to Albert’s friends, there are some classics that have come up both during their high school years but also as they all started college. Some classics that never goes away, despite the passage of time and growth. </p><p>Davey is a huge dork. Specs’ is basically an old man in a 20-year-old’s body. Jack doesn’t know shit about flirting, even though he thinks he does. And Albert is a huge slut. </p><p>But it has never been a problem. While they have teased him mercilessly, none of Albert’s friends have actually been uncomfortable with him hooking up every other weekend. The closest thing has been Crutchie staring him down and asking him if he uses a condom every time, which, come on. It’s almost insulting that he would have to ask. Albert may be a slut, but he’s not an idiot. </p><p>No, none of his friends have ever been uncomfortable with his sexlife. Until now, that is. </p><p>It has been three weeks since the party at the Delancey’s. Three weeks since Albert hooked up with that guy he recognized from the library check-out counter. Three weeks since Race last looked him in the eye. </p><p>The guy, Paul, had been mad cute, too. Glasses, and soft, brown hair. Great kisser. Albert would totally have been ready to give him his number after the party - just in case they wanted to hook up again - but it had turned out that Paul wasn’t out and got freaked by people walking in on them. “It’s not that I’m ashamed, or scared that they’ll tell, or anything,” he had explained while pulling on his shirt. “I’m just… I want to do it on my own terms, you know?”</p><p>Albert respects that. Hell, he can’t be one to judge, since he technically never came out, either. It was just the fact that he wasn’t ever really in the closet to begin with. It had been his understanding that everyone in their friend group had known, but obviously that wasn’t the case, because, as mentioned earlier, three weeks has passed and Race is still not acting normally around him. </p><p>At first, Albert had figured it was regular awkwardness from walking in on someone hooking up. But as the days passed, and Race refused to talk about the party and instead started ignoring Albert’s calls, it became apparent the issue lay elsewhere. </p><p>Which is what lead Albert to pound on Race’s dorm room at nine in the morning on a saturday. He has been awake the better part of the night, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out the best way to do this. In the end, it was clear that the only way to do it was the Albert way: head on and without hesitation. </p><p>There’s a rattle as the lock is turned, and then Race’s face is seen in the open doorway. Albert’s stomach twists. His friend’s eyes look tired with dark circles under them. His hair is a mess and the t-shirt he’s wearing is inside out, which probably means he just woke up. Albert would be feeling sorry for interrupting Race’s sleep, if it weren’t for the pounding in his heart that must mean he’s angry. Angry at Race. Who is now staring at Albert like he’s a ghost. </p><p>“Wha-” is all Race manages to get out before Albert pushes him out of the way and stomps into the room. </p><p>“Morning,” he says and ignores the whooshing sound in his ears, because he needs to yell at Race before he faints, dammit. “I never thought you would ever be this much of an asshole, you know? I thought, maybe my mother will have a problem with it, because she will think it means I will never give her grandchildren, which is bullshit and not even necessarily true, but that’s besides the point. And I thought that, maybe, Spot will be an ass because he’s Spot and he’s an ass about everything. And I definitely expected the Delancey’s to give me shit about it, because that’s just them. But-- but you! I never thought that you would be such a dick that you would ever care that I sleep around with guys.”</p><p>There is a silence for a moment, as Albert takes a deep breath, getting ready to continue. It feels good to say it, to let everything he has been keeping to himself out into the open. Race closes the door and then pulls his arms around his body like he is protecting himself, and it makes Albert even more mad because how dare Race show weakness and sadness when Albert is calling him out like this?</p><p>“So, what is it? Is it that I sleep around, because I don’t think you are in any position to judge, and also it’s none of your fucking business. Or is it because it’s with men, sometimes? Because that is so much lower than I ever expected from you, Race, honestly, we’ve been friends for how long-?”</p><p>“Al, I-- ”</p><p>“Or is it because I never told you, you never got your best-friend-coming-out-bonding-moment? Well, I’m bisexual, Race! Congrats, you happy now?”</p><p>“So am I.”</p><p>“And another thing--”</p><p>And Albert stops. The silence spreads through the room. He stares at Race, who is refusing to meet his eyes. </p><p>“You-- What?”</p><p>Race’s jaw is set in stone. “I’m bi. I think. Pan, maybe, I don’t know. Queer.”</p><p>Albert only has time to faintly note that Race seems to know a lot of the terms and wonder if he has spent time researching, trying to find the word that fits -- and then the meaning and consequences of Race’s words hit him. He takes a small step back. </p><p>“At the party, I--” Race takes a deep breath, and Albert is astonished to hear that his voice is trembling slightly. “I saw you, and that guy, and I.... I don’t fucking know, man, it was--”</p><p>He glances up at Albert, who can do nothing but look back. “You--” he starts, trying to find the words. “You had your bisexual awakening because of me?” The words come out of his mouth, but he can’t seem to remember actually saying them. His mind is blank.</p><p>A smile is threatening to break out on Race’s face, Albert can tell, and he feels like laughing himself. Race releases a deep breath and then sucks his teeth in. “You have every right to think I’m an asshole, because I was, I really was. I just… I couldn’t figure it out, you know? Why I got so… Worked up, I guess, I don’t know. I tried so fucking hard to understand why, and in hindsight it was so obvious that it might as well have been written on a neon sign.”</p><p> </p><p>He drags a hand over his face, takes a step back and sinks down on his unmade bed. After a silent moment Albert follows and sits down next to him. There is a pregnant pause, where Albert wants to say anything, want to figure out what is going on between them. But it’s something untouchable, something too big for him to take on alone. </p><p>Race glances fleetingly at Albert. The coyness is something new. “Uh-- at the party… That guy--?”</p><p>Albert shakes his head. “He’s no one. Or, well, not no one, obviously, he was really cool, but…” He shrugs and forces his gaze away from Race’s lips. “At the end of the day, it wasn’t anything.”</p><p>Race nods. “Cool.</p><p>Albert bites the bullet. “And, that girl…?”</p><p>Race shakes his head quickly. “No, she’s… It’s the same.”</p><p>“Cool.”</p><p>They stare at each other for a moment. The silence between them is unusual and tense, but not bad. It feels like they are both waiting for something to happen, for the other to say something or to do something. Which is strange, because that isn’t them. They have always been the two go-getters in their friend-group, never hesitating or regretting anything. </p><p>Maybe they both realize that at the same time. Or maybe it’s one small, insignificant sign from the other that makes the both of them move. Whatever reason, suddenly they are kissing each other furiously, teeth clashing and hands touching every part of the other they can find. </p><p>They fall back onto the bed, and Race climbs on top of Albert. He pushes him down into the mattress, attacking him with his mouth, and Albert is letting him without complaining. The warmness of Race’s body under his shirt seeps over to him, and Albert realizes that <i>oh</i>. It’s this. This is what it’s supposed to be like. And as soon as the thought enters his head, the warmness spreads through every inch of his body and then centers in the pit of his stomach. </p><p>He pulls away from Race, who is looking down at him with a slightly dazed expression on his face. There’s a moment where they both stare at each other, and then Race whispers: “Are we ruining our friendship right now?”</p><p>Albert cracks a smile up at him. “How pessimistic,” he says. There’s a pause where Race looks like he might argue, but ten Albert kisses him again. “Besides,” he continues when they come up for air after an unspeakable amount of time. “Honestly, I can feel your boner against my leg right now, I think we’re way past friendship at this point.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! If you did, don't forget to leave kudos and/or a comment :)</p><p>My tumblr: @pizzas-will-rule-the-world</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>